Текст книги "I'll Never Let You Go"

Автор книги: Mary Burton

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Chapter Nineteen

Sunday, January 22, 5 A.M.

Charlie had a surprisingly good night with Leah, making it all the way until five A.M. until she needed a walk. Leah pulled on sweats, a thick T-shirt, sheepskinned boots, and a heavy coat as Charlie barked. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

Her neighbor, a short woman with long, brown hair, waved. The woman owned a pug, but her name escaped Leah. She waved back. Charlie barked.

As she walked the dog toward the corner, she noticed the police car parked across the street. It was there for her protection, but it was a reminder of Philip and the dangerous days ahead.

After the walk, she was energized and ready for a morning run, but when she thought of leaving Charlie alone in her house while she ran, she considered the consequences. “A new dog alone in a town house is a recipe for chewed shoes,” she said as she cupped the dog’s face. “Or maybe I’ll find a shredded comforter.” The dog licked her face and wagged its tail.

“I know you look all innocent now, but I trust you as far as I can throw you. We’re buying a crate today.”

While Charlie chewed on a toy she’d scavenged from the clinic, Leah quickly showered and dressed. Breakfast was a toasted bagel while Charlie munched on dry food. By seven thirty the two were headed out the front door back to the clinic. Charlie, unaccustomed to walking on a leash, pulled her all the way across the lawn and, when they reached her car, circled her several times, wrapping the leash around her legs. Laughing, Leah unlocked the car and carefully unwound the leash. She picked up the dog and settled her on the front seat. Charlie barked, clearly excited about a ride in the car. Another patrolman waited across the street, and she knew this couldn’t go on forever. One day the protection detail would have to stop.

As Leah drove toward work, the tension gripped and then ebbed each time she glanced at the dog. The pup looked up at her with trusting eyes, and a few more bricks vanished from the wall.

When the two entered through the back entrance of the clinic, Gail laughed. “I almost sounded the alarm when I saw the black dog was gone, then decided to wait until you arrived.”

Disappointment tugged. “Did the owner call?”

“No.”

She rubbed Charlie on the head. “His loss, my gain.”

“I don’t hear disappointment in your voice.”

“If he really wants her back, it’s not for me to stand in his way.”

“Bull.”

“What?”

Gail laughed. “You’re not giving that dog up.”

Leah shrugged. “I could if I had to.”

Gail studied the dog, clearly happy to be at Leah’s side. “I suppose she’ll be the newest vet pet.”

“I’ll keep up with her. I might need a bit of help if I’m in surgery.”

“Doc Nelson brings in Spike. As long as they get along, we should be fine, and Spike’s a softy. We also have a spare crate and food to get you started.”

She rubbed Charlie’s head. “Thanks.”

“So why the change of heart? A few days ago, you were against a dog.”

Not a dog. Bringing someone into her life and closer to harm. She was tired of being afraid. “We all evolve.”

Charlie settled on the couch in the reception room, behind Gail, and Leah began her morning routine of seeing patients. The worries of the last couple of weeks eased, and it seemed as if the stresses melted. Here, she felt safe.

Leah was doing a routine physical on a female pit bull when Gail poked her head in the exam room door. “Got a minute?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Better come now. Your neighbor is on the phone.”

Leah finished the injection with the dog and looked at the client. “I’ll be right back.”

She hurried to reception and picked up the phone. “This is Leah.”

“Leah, this is Julia.”

“Julia?”

“I live next door. You gave me advice about a sick pug right before Christmas. I waved to you this morning.”

The woman’s face didn’t come to mind but she remembered the dog. “Right. Julia. What’s up?” She hesitated and then recalled the dog’s name. “Roscoe not feeling well again?”

“He’s fine. I was just wondering. Are you moving?”

“What? No, I’m not moving.”

“I didn’t think so, but there’s a moving van in front of your town house. I told the guy you aren’t moving, but he has a signed work order to move out your furniture.”

Leah imagined the floor wobbling under her feet. “What! I’m not moving.”

“The movers are loading boxes as I speak.”

Leah gripped the phone, leaning into the receiver as if it would convey more desperation. “Julia, do me a favor and call the cops. I’m headed home right now.”

“Will do.”

Leah explained the situation to Gail and then, grabbing her coat, hurried to her car. She drove home, running more than a couple of yellow lights. When she pulled up in front of her town house, a yellow Ace moving van was parked in her driveway. The back of the truck was open, the ramp lowered to the ground. Three large-muscled men stood in front of her door talking to two uniformed cops.

Leah parked in front of the house and ran up to her door. “What’s going on here?”

A tall uniformed officer broke away from the movers and came closer to her. “Are you Leah Carson?”

“That’s Leah,” Julia said.

The officer ignored her neighbor. “Are you Leah Carson?” “I am. What’s going on here?”

“Do you have identification?”

“This is my house!”

“Ma’am, we need to be sure.”

With trembling hands, she dug into her purse and fished out her wallet. She plucked out her newly minted Tennessee driver’s license with her Nashville address and handed it to him. He studied her name. “Would you mind waiting right here?”

“Why?”

“Just need to check out a few things.”

She folded her arms over her chest, irritated that she had to go to such lengths to get people off her property. But as much as she wanted to rant and rail, logic called and told her to calm down. “Sure. Go ahead.”

She glanced at her neighbor and the movers, who looked confused and annoyed. As the officer slid behind the wheel of his car with her license and typed into his computer, she looked at the movers. “Who sent you here?”

The tallest, a dark-skinned man with broad shoulders and flecks of gray at his temples, said, “The work order came in two days ago.”

“Who put in the work order?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that we were supposed to pack the whole place up and move it.”

“Move it where?” The tone of her voice spiked with anger and fear.

He glanced at his work order. “A storage facility north of town. There’s a unit waiting to take the furniture into storage.”

“Can I see your work order?”

“Sure.” He lifted the clipboard at his side and pulled off the top sheet. “This is what I had in my assignment box last night.”

She read over the order, keying in on the vital information. It was her name, address, even her phone number. Paid in full. Her gaze skipped to the last line. She wanted to know who had issued the order. The name was Leah Carson.

She gripped the strap of her purse as if it were her lifeline. “This doesn’t make sense. I didn’t order this move.”

He flipped through the pages and held up a paper with her name and the last four digits of her credit card number. “Your name is on the credit card receipt.”

The order had been placed last week. Before the bank had shut down this account. “I didn’t order any of this!” she said, louder than she’d intended.

She took the receipt, her stomach tightening with nausea. The bank hadn’t called her about this expense, but then, why would they? It was a local buy and not extravagant, and it had been made before they’d issued a new card. She’d have picked up on it when her credit card statement came in at the end of the month, but that would have been too late to stop today’s fiasco.

A black SUV pulled up behind the police car, and she instantly recognized Alex Morgan as he got out. The folds of his overcoat caught in the wind, revealing his badge and gun as he strode toward her.

She was glad to see him in an odd sort of way. The officer got out of his car and Alex spoke to him for several minutes. His gaze locked on Leah, and he strode toward her in long confident strides.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

His calm frustrated her. She wanted him to be upset and screaming. “I don’t know. I got a call from my neighbor asking me why I was moving.”

“Why’re you moving?”

“I’m not moving! I didn’t order this.” She held the now-crumpled work order in her fist. “My name is on the form, but I didn’t authorize it.”

“She paid for it,” the mover said.

“I didn’t pay for it willingly.” She looked at Alex.

“Someone skimmed my credit card and used it for the purchase. This is so classic Philip!”

Alex turned toward the officer. “I think we can establish that this is a mistake.”

The officer nodded. “Sounds like it.”

The lack of conviction in his voice irritated her, as if he was suggesting that she was lying. She glared at the officer as Alex stepped between them. He turned to the movers. “Whatever you took out, put it back.”

“I got to call my boss.”

“You can do that right after you put what you removed back.” Steel coated each syllable.

The movers glanced at each other, then headed toward the back of the truck. They spent the next fifteen minutes moving boxes back into the house. Leah noticed most were marked KITCHEN.

When her belongings had been put back in the house, she walked up to the mover. “I want the name of your supervisor.”

He handed her a card and her house key.

She studied the new key. “Where did you get this?”

“Under the mat, just like you said.”

“I don’t leave keys under the mat. Ever!”

He sighed, not sure how to handle her. “Lady, it’s what I was told.”

“Sure. Thanks.” She watched as he and his coworker got in the truck and drove off.

Leah turned to her neighbor and tried to smile. “Julia, thank you for calling. I don’t know what I would have done if I came home and everything was gone.”

Julia glanced from Leah to Alex. “Sure, Leah. Glad to help.”

Leah watched her walk away, so tempted to call out and say, “I didn’t do this! I’m not crazy!”

But she kept her silence, aware that when doubt had been sewn into another’s mind, shouting only reinforced it. She moved into her house to survey the damage. Most of the furniture was in place, but her pictures had been removed from the walls and wrapped in brown paper. Her kitchen had been stripped and packed away in the boxes that now stood in the center of the room. It would take her hours to unpack.

The front door closed softly behind her. She turned to see Alex surveying the house.

“I wasn’t moving,” she said.

“I know.”

God, how she wanted to believe it was a mistake. She wanted to ferret out a reason that would offer any explanation other than the actual one. Philip. “He’s playing with me.”

“Why would he bother with this kind of game?”

“Because he knows it will ruin my day. He’ll be all I think about. He had a knack for messing up my days with just a phone call or the click of a mouse.”

He drew in a breath. “Have you seen any sign of him?”

Hands on hips, she thumbed her index finger. “None. But that’s part of his thing. He never shows his face.”

He tugged his cuffs down over his thick wrists. “Okay.”

“He was always so good at messing with me. He could make me feel like I was going insane.” She raised fists to her temples and turned. “When I left him, he was furious. He stalked me for months.”

“Tell me what happened the night he stabbed you.”

The hard edge had softened. “You’ve read the reports.”

“You tell me.”

The story had been bottled up for years; she’d shared only bits and pieces with a very few people. “He broke into my apartment. When I woke up, he was standing in the corner of my room. I called nine-one-one, but we both knew I’d be dead before the cops arrived.” She shoved out a sigh, as if some poison had been trapped in her lungs. “After the first plunge of the knife, adrenaline exploded in me. I forgot about the pain. I assumed he would kill me, but I refused to go easy.”

A weight lifted from her shoulders. Alex had dug into her past without asking, but as they stood there together, she sensed some of her burden had shifted to his shoulders. She liked Alex. Appreciated his intelligence. But she couldn’t say whether she fully trusted him. She nearly laughed. He was here, listening, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Anything else happen since we spoke?”

“Someone abandoned a dog at the clinic.”

“That happens, doesn’t it?”

“This would be the kind of thing Philip would do. He’d give me something he knew I’d care about and then take it away so I’d suffer.”

Alex stared at Leah’s flushed face and the unshed tears that glistened. She glanced at her hands twisting her thumb and index finger over an invisible wedding ring. “I was raised in a good home. I’m smart. I should’ve figured out this guy was trouble. But I missed all the warning signs.”

“How old were you when you met him?”

“Twenty-two.”

“You were a kid.”

“I should have known better.” She wrapped her arms around her chest.

“You know better now.”

She stared into his stoic gaze, feeling a connection. “You’re not exactly the most open person. You keep secrets. You can be cold. And yet I’ve got a thing for you. What does that say about me?”

“You have good taste.”

The deadpan answer coaxed a laugh. “Right. Or I’m just insane.”

“You’re one of the sanest people I know, Leah.”

His words tugged at her heart as if it were a kite and he the flyer. “I’ve got to get back to work. I have patients this afternoon.”

“I’ll check around here and call you.”

“How’re you going to find him? He’s been a step ahead of us.”

“What was the name of the florist that sent you the flowers?”

“It was Nathan’s on Broadway. I called them, but they couldn’t tell me much.”

“They’ll talk to me.”

Alex was en route to Nathan’s when he got a call from Deke. “What do you have?”

“I’ve been going through Deidre’s financials, just looking to see if anything popped.”

“And?”

“Two listening devices were charged to her credit card. The make and model match the one we found in her town house the day she was murdered.”

“The exact same model?”

“Yeah. Exact. What we found, she most likely put there.”

“So why would she bug her own place?” Alex turned onto Fourth and found street parking. He shut off the engine but didn’t move.

“She was in a tough divorce. Maybe she wanted to get something on Radcliff.”

“Maybe.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“If she planted the device, that means the receiver has to be close to her house.”

“Within a mile.”

“A search of the place revealed nothing that would have recorded conversations.”

“She just moved to that place.”

“Run down where she used to live and search it. And go over her car carefully. Then get back to me.”

“Will do.”

Alex got out of the car, bracing against the wind that whipped along the buildings, which acted as a wind tunnel. He walked the half block to Broadway and turned right. Fifteen paces later he was in Nathan’s.

A tall slim man in his midforties glanced up from an arrangement of red roses. “Can I help you?”

Alex pulled his badge from his breast pocket. “Had a question about an order placed here a few days ago.”

The man raised a brow and laid down the rose he’d been trimming. “I’ll help if I can.”

“It was an order of irises, sent to a Leah Carson.”

“Name doesn’t ring a bell, but let me have a look.” He shifted a few feet to the right to his computer. A few taps of the keys and he was nodding. “We had one order for her. Happy Anniversary.”

“That’s right. Who sent them?”

“The buyer’s name was Brian Lawrence.”

“Did he give an address or phone number?”

“Phone number.” The clerk rattled off the number. “I think I got a call from Ms. Carson asking about the flowers.”

Alex jotted down the number. “Do you have a credit card number?”

“Sure.” He glanced at the computer and shook his head. “He paid cash. Did Ms. Carson call you?”

“I’ve spoken to her. The flowers weren’t welcome.”

The florist frowned. “I saw the arrangement myself. It was stunning.”

“They were sent by a man who we believe is stalking her.”

“Oh. I had no idea.”

“Do you have security cameras?”

“No. But the bar next door does. That camera might have picked him up.”

“Thanks.”

Alex left his business card with the florist and moved next door to the bar. This early in the evening the place was empty, except for a few patrons who sat at the bar. A tall, muscled man wore a black T-shirt. The guy took one look at Alex and frowned. “Cop.”

Alex pulled out his badge. “TBI. I’m looking for security footage.”

“From when?” No shock. No surprise. He knew the drill.

“Wednesday, January eighteenth. I’m looking for a guy who went into the florist shop about ten in the morning that day.”

“I can’t help you, but my tech guy shows up in an hour. I can have him pull it for you.”

Alex handed him a card. “I’d appreciate that.”

The bouncer flicked the edge of the card with his thumb. “Guy bought flowers?”

“Among other things.”

All afternoon, every noise, every ringing phone, every footstep in the hallway, set her nerves on edge. Her stomach churned and she found it harder and harder to concentrate as the minutes ticked by. When Gail locked the front door for the evening, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay?” Gail asked as she slid on her winter jacket.

Leah’s smile was a throwback to the days when she smiled all the time to conceal her fears. “I’m fine.”

“Haven’t had a chance to ask, but what was going on with your neighbor? She sounded pretty upset. Something about a moving van in front of your house.”

“It was a mix-up. The moving company parked at my house when they should have been a few houses down. It took just a second to clear up the problem.”

“So everything is fine?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem a little rattled.”

“I’m fine.” She widened her grin just a fraction, knowing overdoing it could set off red flags. Didn’t want to look desperate. She’d made that mistake with her roommate when Philip had been stalking her, and when her roommate had pressed, Leah had cried and confessed her troubles. She didn’t want to cry now, or give Philip the satisfaction of knowing she was rattled. “Really.”

Gail’s gaze settled on her an extra beat before she nodded. “By the way, when you were in your last appointment, I ran Charlie outside so she’s ready to go home.”

She teetered, feeling touched at the gesture and fear for the dog she’d be taking home to a house that had been violated that morning. “Thanks. That’s so sweet.”

“You two get on. It’s been a long day.”

“I hear ya.” She moved into her office, where she found Charlie sleeping on a dog bed by her desk. Gail’s doing, no doubt. The dog looked up at her and wagged her tail. Her gaze still had a bit of a panicked look, as if she didn’t know where she was going. Too many homes in too short a time.

Leah reached for the leash, and the dog began to wag her tail faster. As she petted Charlie on the head and fastened her collar, she worried aloud. “Let’s get home and hope it’s still there.”

The dog sprang to her feet and barked.

“That’s right. Home. For better or worse, you’re with me.”

On the drive home she detoured into a strip mall. First a stop at the ATM for cash, and then she and Charlie went into the pet store, where she picked out a proper collar and leash, and also made an ID charm from the machine. She bought dog food, a bed, and chew treats. By the time she left the store, she was a couple of hundred bucks lighter and sure that she had fallen in love with this dog.

When she pulled up in front of her house, it was dark. Normally, she left lights on so she never returned home to the dark, but today, in the rush to close up the house after the movers had gone, she must have turned off the lights.

“What the hell happened today?” She gripped the steering wheel as she stared at the dark house.

The sound of her voice had Charlie barking again, pulling her away from her thoughts. She took the dog with her to the front door and let her inside. Leaving the main door open and the screen door closed, she returned to her car to gather her purchases. Once she had carried all her purchases inside, she closed the exterior door and flipped the dead bolt closed. Charlie barked and sniffed the purchases. Leah wanted to smile, but first she had to check her town house. Keys in hand, she moved from room to room, turning on lights and checking the windows. With each click of a light switch she flinched a little, half-expecting to see Philip standing in a darkened shadow.

When she determined the house was clear, she allowed herself a smile. “Good. We’re in the clear tonight.”

She took Charlie with her into the kitchen, where the packed moving boxes stood, a loud reminder of the day’s chaos. She wasn’t in the clear. Not even close.

“You did this to me, didn’t you, Philip? I know it was you.” The dog whimpered, clearly picking up on the tension in her voice. She smiled at the dog and rubbed her on the head. With Charlie in tow, she again checked the bedrooms and all the closets, and only when she was sure the house was indeed empty did she begin to wash out the bowls and then fill one with dried food and the other with water. She placed both on a new doggie place mat.

As Charlie ate, Leah rolled her head from side to side, realizing her back was a knot of tension. She opened the fridge and pulled out a wedge of cheese and a half full wine bottle. Turning, she reached in the cabinet to get a glass and realized it had been packed. Damn.

She studied the boxes and searched for any that might say glassware, but they were all marked simply KITCHEN. She grabbed her keys from her coat pocket and cut through the tape that held each box closed. She found her wineglasses in the fourth box. Carefully, she unwrapped a glass, rinsed it in the sink, and filled it with wine. She took a long healthy sip, savoring the cool flavor as it rolled down her throat. As much as she wanted to settle and relax in front of a movie on television, she couldn’t bear the idea of waking up to these boxes, a reminder of today’s nightmare. She turned on the television, soothed by the hum of the evening news, which gave her the sense she wasn’t alone.

She set up the dog bed for Charlie and gave her a chew stick and then set about unpacking the twelve moving boxes that had contained her kitchen. It took nearly two hours to unpack, unwrap, wash, and replace every item. Finally, just before nine, she was able to break down the last of the boxes and put them out by her back door by the recycling bins. Next, she moved into the living room and spent another half hour rehanging the pictures the movers had wrapped. More paper, more trash out by the back door. By ten she’d put her house back together, retrieved her journal, and was seated with Charlie on the couch, the television humming in the background.

She turned to the last blank page and detailed the day’s event. She began with the call from her neighbor, the movers, the credit card, the boxes, and Alex Morgan.

As she wrote the last words, she found the journaling this time did nothing to ease her worries. She’d been afraid to look back over the last couple of months and see if there were any patterns. Hesitant to fear the facts. Facts were power, and after today, she could no longer ignore the fact that Philip was finding ways to reach her.

It took her less than fifteen minutes of reading to realize just how close Philip was. The missing house keys. The flowers. The flat tire. The man at the park. The movers.

She’d been rattled by all of these incidents but she’d been determined not to freak out and call the cops. Each incident didn’t mean much, but all together they told her very clearly that someone was stalking her.

She closed her eyes, absently rubbing the scars on her palms. How am I going to do this? How am I going to battle him again?

An overwhelming weight settled on her shoulders. As much as she wanted to think Alex would help, she knew cops did what they could but often it was a case of too little, too late.

Charlie jumped up on the couch and nestled her nose in Leah’s lap.

She looked at the dog, rubbing her between the ears. “You were dropped off at the clinic and left. You’re black, like the dog I once wanted. He would have known that. Known I’d fall in love with you right away.”

A wave of nausea rose up in her throat as tears welled in her eyes. “He wants me to care so he can take you away, or worse, hurt you. Charlie, I’m afraid we’ve both fallen into a trap.”

There would have been a time when she’d have wept and worried and hidden. But not anymore.

Leah rose and moved to her computer and logged on. She looked up locksmiths and found a twenty-four-hour service. It would cost her a fortune, but there’d be no way she could sleep tonight knowing someone had copied her house key.

Phone in hand, she dialed the number of the locksmith. A man answered on the third ring, his voice gruff and a bit irritated. “Watts Locksmith.”

She glanced at the front door and wondered if she’d locked it. “Can you change the locks on my house tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. I had a break-in today and I think someone has a key to my house.”

“Sure, I can change the lock. It’s overtime rates, though.”

“Do you take checks?”

“Cash or credit.”

“All I have is a check. My credit card was skimmed and I’m waiting on the new one.” Philip had boxed her in. “I’ll pay double if you take a check.”

“How do I know it’s good? I’ve been stiffed before.”

“I’ve never bounced a check in my life.”

“Right.”

“I’m a vet. I can give you my work address, and you’ll know where I live. I wouldn’t be pressing if I weren’t scared. He’s gotten in at least once before.”

“He?”

The words stuck in her throat. “My ex-husband.”

A sigh shuddered through the line. “Give me your address.”

She rattled off her home address and he promised to be at her place within the hour. As she waited, she moved from window to window in the house, checking and rechecking the locks. Charlie followed her from room to room, carrying her chew stick. She sat patiently as Leah went from room to room.

When she’d moved in, she’d taken a hammer and nails and secured each window in place with a single nail. It was a simple but effective trick she’d learned after Philip’s last attack.

By the time she’d checked the windows, her doorbell rang. Charlie barked, the fur on the back of her neck rising. Most dogs would be excited by a visitor, but this dog, like Leah, associated strangers with trouble.

She looked through the peephole and saw an elderly man wearing a white work shirt. The name Mike had been stitched over the right breast pocket. He carried a well-worn toolbox, and beyond him was a van that read LOCKSMITH.

“Ms. Carson,” he said. “It’s Mike Watts.”

Holding Charlie’s collar, she opened the door. “Mr. Watts, thank you for coming so late.”

He glanced at the puppy, a grin tipping his lips. “Mighty tough dog you got there.”

She picked up Charlie. “I’ve only had her a couple of days, but she owns the place.”

He laughed. “The best dogs always do. My dog Buster has me wrapped around his paw.” He nodded to the lock. “Any other doors in the house?”

“Off the kitchen there’s another door. Just the two doors.”

“Well, then, it shouldn’t be too hard.” He inspected the lock and then jabbed his thumb toward his van. “Let me grab a couple of locks. Be right back.”

She and Charlie waited as he moved slowly and easily to his van and opened the back. He rattled around there for several minutes. As she watched, she glanced around the darkened street, searching for a car or a person, anything that was there that didn’t belong. There was nothing out of the ordinary on the street, and yet the hair on the back of her neck rose, as if invisible fingers stroked her skin.

Mr. Watts reappeared with two locks and a work blanket, which he laid in front of the door. He knelt and got to work on the lock. He had it removed and replaced in twenty minutes. He moved through the house and opened the back door, noticing the collection of broken-down boxes.

“Getting ready to move?”

“No,” she said. There’d been a time when she’d have chatted about her day and told him about the mix-up. Instead, she stayed silent, holding Charlie close as Mr. Watts changed out the lock.

With a grunt, he rose. He locked and unlocked the door with the key three times before declaring the lock sound. “You’re good to go, Ms. Carson.”

“Thanks.” No sense of relief because she knew this was only the beginning of a new chapter, which she thought had ended four years ago in South Carolina.

Leah walked Mr. Watts to the front door, where she dug out her checkbook. She wrote the check for double the rate, wincing at the financial hit. “Thanks again.”

He reviewed her check, folded it, and tucked it in his pocket. “Glad to help.”

By the time he’d left it was nearly midnight. Charlie was asleep in her arms and her body ached with fatigue and tension.

She locked the doors, once, twice, three times, and then put the keys in her jacket pocket before taking Charlie into the bedroom with her. She climbed in her bed, slid under the covers fully dressed, and lay back against the pillows. She might be safe for now, but now didn’t last very long.

The locksmith was a setback he hadn’t been expecting. Leah was smarter than he’d anticipated. She wasn’t as timid as she appeared.

Kinda sucks, doesn’t it, Leah? No friends, always looking over your shoulder, jumping at every sound. If you think this is all I’ve planned for you, you don’t know how motivated I am.